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SCENE opens on an close up of Sheila's face, as she staggers down the road. The 19-year-old girl looks dazed. Her face is sweaty. Her clothes are wet and loose, hanging off her petite frame, and she is clutching a bundle tightly against her chest. She comes upon a shed and, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one is around, carefully places the bundle between some rocks at the back of the structure. A WORM'S EYE angle shows her staring down at it. She slowly starts to wine. Wiping her tears, she composes herself and walks off. As she crosses the front of the shed, a man steps out and catches her. Surprised, he asks if she is OK. Not wanting to get caught, she runs off without saying a word, wiping the frame and leaving the man to wonder what she was doing behind his shed. He walks around the back to take look and, after a moment, lets out a scream. Close up of Sheila sitting stone-faced. She is handcuffed to a chair while a police officer stands silently behind her. A well-dressed man enters the room and approaches her. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he tells the officer to remove the cuffs and wait outside. When the officer exits, the man slowly removes his grip and sits down on a chair opposite Sheila. They survey each other for a moment before the man asks if she knows who he is. She has no reaction. The man introduces himself as Dr. Powell. He explains that he is a psychiatrist who has been appointed by the court in her case. She says nothing. Taking a deep breath, he asks if she knows why she is here. When she continues to be silent, he picks up his notebook and reads that she is here because of the June 7, 2017 incident involving her baby. Sheila looks away, to hide her reaction, and mutters something incoherent. Dr. Powell pulls his chair a little closer. He tells her that she has been charged with attempted homicide and, since she is 19-years-old, she is going to be tried as an adult. Her attorney, a public defender, is trying to build a case to prove it was involuntary abandonment. Right now, that defense is greatly dependent on this session. The psychiatrist's role will be to examine her and provide testimony about her mental state. His recommendations will provide the legal evidence that her attorney is hoping for -- proof that she was not of sound mind when committing the act. He asks if she knows the difference between voluntary and involuntary? Turning to face him for the first time, she says blankly 'Yes, I know the difference very well.' Sensing her resistance, Dr. Powell sits back in his chair and smiles. 'Involuntary is an unintentional act committed by someone who has no spite or anger and no intention to cause harm.' He speaks condescendingly. 'It is very difficult to prove, especially in this kind of case, as I'm sure you know. But that's why we're here today ... so, why don't we start by you telling me what happened.' Sheila turns away. Dr. Powell licks his lips. 'How exactly did you get pregnant?' He asks. She says nothing. He stands up, adjusting himself subtly. 'Was it one of the boys from your class?' He asks, glancing at his notes. 'Oh wait ... you don't go to class. You haven't gone to college since ....' Sheila cuts him off and tells him that she's homeschooled. Walking around her, Dr. Powell asks her to elaborate -- what was it like to be taught by your parents instead of a regular teacher? Did it make you feel isolated to be away from other kids? Sheila stares down at her feet and tells him she wasn't taught by her parents. She was taught by her poppa. Dr. Powell stops walking. He licks his lips again, trying to contain the smirk forming on his face. 'Was your father a strict teacher?' He asks. Sheila looks up at him. 'My poppa is everything.' She replies and begins to moan.

The scene opens on Amy, a bright and happy 18-year-old college student, as she heads home from college one afternoon. The camera lingers on her while she walks - wearing her college uniform, listening to ear-buds, and carrying a book bag innocently over her shoulder. When she passes a homeless man, she pauses and reaches into her bag, handing him her lunch leftovers. The man thanks her and she tells him to keep his chin up before putting her buds back in and walking on. You can tell the girl is a very good Samaritan. As Amy continues, she spots a car pulled up along the side of the road. A woman is leaning up against it. When she sees the girl approach, she pulls out her phone and starts to mutter to herself ... frustrated. Amy stops and regards the woman, who is immaculately dressed and very beautiful. 'Are you ok?' she asks. The woman stops and, sighing, tells the girl that she's lost and can't get her GPS to work. She and her husband are late for an engagement and desperately need directions. Amy peers into the car and spots the woman's husband in the front seat. He is dressed in a suit and politely waves at her. She looks back at the woman and asks where they are going, maybe she can help point them in the right direction. The woman tells her that they are attending a function at the convention center -- but she lost the invite with the address and their signal dropped. Because they are out of towners, they simply don't know where to go. Amy begins to give them directions but as she explains where to go, the woman sighs again and mutters that her mind is like a sieve. She's not possibly going to remember. Amy stops and tries to think of another way to explain, as the woman subtly glances back at her husband. 'What if you were to get in the car and take us there?' The woman asks. 'My husband and I would be happy to pay you for your troubles and it would really help us out.' Amy, knowing that she isn't supposed to do this, glances in at the husband again. He looks perfectly normal. 'I would probably need to ask my parents.' She slowly says. She looks back up at the woman, who calmly asks how old she is. When Amy replies that she is eighteen, the woman smiles and laughs. 'If you're eighteen then why would you need to ask your parents? You're a grown up!' Amy laughs along meekly. The woman asks her name and Amy tells her. 'Well Amy,' the woman reiterates. 'It would really help us out if you would just get in the car.' Amy takes a long pause before agreeing. The woman opens the back seat and Amy climbs in. Then, surveying the area and kicking dirt over the footprints, the woman walks back to the passenger side and gets inside. The car screeches off. Two Days Later.
The camera comes into focus as Amy slowly lifts her head from her lap. She is curled up in a ball in an empty room. Her bag is gone, her ear-buds are gone, and her college girl uniform is dusty and dirty. Her hair is tousled and her face is streaked with sweat. She has a terrible headache. A bucket sits close by, alongside a toothbrush in a glass of water, and some remnants of food. She wipes her eyes and starts to pick at the food when a door opens. It's the couple. No longer in formal wear, they step towards her in casual clothes and latex gloves. 'You've eaten all your food this time,' says the husband. 'What a good little pet.' The teen looks up at him in cold silence. She asks when she can have her call with her parents, the one they promised. The woman smiles. 'I told you already Amy, you can have your phone call when you make me cum.' The couple laugh as Amy slumps back down. Four Days Later. Amy runs around the empty room, banging on the walls. She unbuttons the last of her blouse and tosses it in the corner. The room is very hot. Sitting down defeated, she calls out to the couple that she is ready for them now. She'll do whatever they want. She just needs some air. She waits desperately for a reply but it never comes and she collapses into a heap on the floor.